


Follow Me in Merry Measure

by 70SecretKinks



Series: Deck the Halls with Steve and Bucky [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas in February - why not?, Even more tooth-rotting fluff, First Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 09:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13610571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/70SecretKinks/pseuds/70SecretKinks
Summary: This fluffy tale immediately follows the merry meet-cute I posted in December of 2016, in which Bucky took his niece to meet Santa, sat on his lap and landed the jolly old elf's phone number.Now Steve is about to get a gift of his own in the form of an unexpected phone call and a very impromptu date.





	Follow Me in Merry Measure

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Веселись со мною в пляске (Follow Me in Merry Measure)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290016) by [Sevima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevima/pseuds/Sevima)



> Even though Christmas was more than a month ago, I've decided to live by 2nd stated rule in the Code of the Elves courtesy of the movie 'Elf': Treat everyday like Christmas.
> 
> Besides, it's freezing cold and snowing like crazy where I live so it still looks and feels like Christmas without the tree, the lights, the cookies or the bills.
> 
> Lastly, I haven't written/posted anything for a literal age and thought it'd be fun to jump back into the fray with something fun and fluffy. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> In terms of the series, I suppose you could read this story without having read the first work, but I think you'd enjoy this piece a lot more if you did. P.S. This work is unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.

“What a day,” Steve said as he settled onto his favorite barstool.  He scrubbed his hands over his face, massaging over his closed, tired eyes before raking his fingers through his sweat-matted hair.  The cheap white wig and fur-trimmed hat he’d donned all day had taken an unfortunate toll on his usually soft and well-styled, blond hair.

“At least you got to sit down,” Sam replied with a huff; dropping down like a sack of potatoes on the stool to Steve’s right.  “My poor dogs are barking!”

The unimpressed look Steve leveled at his holiday helper had Sam scoffing in defense.

“What?” Sam asked indignantly.  “You try shuffling ‘round in too-tight, curly-toed boots for hours on end and let me know how you feel.”

“I had a non-stop stream of little strangers sitting on my lap and kicking at my shins at the same time my balls were boiling in a pool of my own sweat and you’re the one complaining?” Steve ranted.

“They weren’t _all_ little,” Sam replied with a smirk.

Steve blinked in confusion for a moment before the memory of the beautiful, bashful brunet sitting awkwardly on Steve’s thigh, came flooding back to his brain.  Steve wasn’t sure what kind of expression he’d been making as his thoughts traveled back to the sweet, gorgeous guy—Bucky, his name was Bucky—he’d met earlier that day, but it must’ve been amusing based on his best friend’s response.

“Wow, dude.  You’ve got it bad.”

Steve turned as red as the Santa suit he’d worn all day long.

“I think you both look like hell,” the bartender interrupted with a smirk as he set their usual bottles of beer before them.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Thanks, Phil,” the men replied in unison.  They picked up their bottles, clinked them together and proceeded to take long, satisfied draws of their ice cold brews.

When Steve placed his bottle back on the bar, he started to fidget, picking at the label with his thumbnail and peeling little strips away as he spoke.  “I still can’t believe I asked him out.  Dressed up as Santa.  In front of his adorable niece.”

“And me and Barton and Dugan and Morita and at least a hundred other people who were waiting in line at the mall,” Sam helpfully supplied.

Steve took another long swig.  “Must’ve been heat-stroke induced, temporary insanity.”

“Surprised the hell outta me,” Sam chuckled.  “But it’s about damn time you got back in the game.  I’m proud of you.”  Sam held his bottle up to cheer his proclamation but Steve just shook his head and took another drink.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Steve lamented.  “It’s not like I’ll ever see him again.  Even if I did, he wouldn’t recognize me.”

Sam gave Steve an oddly satisfied smile.  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Steve laughed at his naïve pal’s endless supply of unfounded optimism before promptly choking on his beer.  He sputtered and coughed and caused a right scene before gathering the ability to properly interrogate his well-meaning, match-making meddler of a friend.

“What did you do?” Steve asked.  The color quickly drained from his face as he pondered the possibilities.

“What a good goddamn wingman is supposed to do, man.  I gave him your name and number, showed him that shirtless pic of you in the park, and told him to give you a call.”

Steve dropped his head and chuckled.  “You’re ridiculous,” he said with a fond smile.

“You’re welcome,” Sam snorted.

Steve took another swig and rolled his eyes.  “I do appreciate the effort Sam but a guy like that would never—”

Steve’s words were suddenly cut off by the sound of jingle bells ringing as his phone vibrated loudly on the bar top.

“Who the fuck changed my ringtone to Deck the Halls?” Steve scowled.

“Don’t look at me,” Sam answered with a laugh, throwing his hands up in defense.

Steve didn’t recognize the number but was too eager in that moment to make the obnoxious tune cease to think about that before answering.

“Hello,” Steve said, sounding more gruff and irritated than he’d really intended.

“Um, hey.  Hi.  Sorry.  I’m, uh, it sounds like I might’ve, uh, caught you at a bad time,” the stranger on the other end of the line trailed off.  His voice was kind and quiet and vaguely familiar.  Steve tried to puzzle out who might be calling, completely unaware of the uncomfortable silence his lack of response had created.

“Who is it?” Sam asked, pulling Steve out of his stupor.

“Okay,” the guy said, sounding thoroughly embarrassed as he exhaled loudly into the phone.  “Sorry to have bothered you.  Your friend Sam, he gave me your number at the mall today but it, uh, must’ve been a mistake.  Have a good—”

“Bucky?”  Steve felt like he’d just been shocked by a live wire.  He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his throat.

Sam’s face lit up with mega-watt smile as he patted Steve on the back.

“Yeah,” Bucky answered tentatively.  “Look, I—”

“I’m so glad you called,” Steve cut him off.  He cleared his throat, looked up at the ceiling and prayed to the hammered, copper ceiling tiles that he hadn’t already blown it.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to bite your head off like that.  I’m not usually an asshole, I swear.”

Bucky chuckled as Sam smacked himself in the forehead.  “You can lead a horse to water,” Sam grumbled under his breath as he waved Phil over for another round.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky said.  “It takes a special kind of person to be Santa Claus.”

Steve blushed.  “Nah,” he chuckled.  “It’s more a case of whomever the suit fits, wears it.”

“Well.”  It was Bucky’s turn to clear his throat.  “You, wore it _very_ well, Steve.”

Steve nearly swallowed his tongue and choked on it.  It’d been a while since he’d flirted with anyone he was even remotely interested in, let alone someone like Bucky.  He wanted to say something smooth and teasing back but he couldn’t find the words.  Any words.  He turned to Sam and stared at him in an obvious panic.  Sam calmly handed Steve a fresh, cold bottle of beer and gestured for Steve to hand him his phone in exchange.  Steve didn’t argue or ask questions.

“Hey BB8, how’s it goin’ man?” Sam asked, cool as ever.

Steve couldn’t hear Bucky’s reply but the satisfied grin on Sam’s face told him the brunet had answered with a suitable amount of snark.

“So, I’m guessing by the fact that you called Steve, you aren’t out to dinner or otherwise engaged at the moment?”

Steve wasn’t sure what Sam’s crooked smile meant now as he easily conversed with Bucky.

“Great!  We’re at Lola’s on 34th.  Yup.  Uh huh.  Okay.  Bye.”

Sam hung up and placed Steve’s phone back on the bar.  He took a few gulps of his beer and turned to evaluate Steve.

“You might want to go do something with your hair.  It looks a little,” he paused and scrunched his nose.  “Awful.  It looks awful.  Go fix it.  Your boy’ll be here in fifteen.”

Steve dismounted his barstool so fast it nearly toppled over in his wake.  He stopped in his tracks to set it straight, his face burning bright with embarrassment.  Sam’s boisterous laughter carried over the din of the crowd, causing the other patrons to stop and stare.

“You’re the worst,” Steve muttered at his howling friend.

“Pffffft,” Sam scoffed.  “You mean I’m the _best_.  Christmas really is the most magical time of year.  Now get, Santa.  Don’t want to scare away your cookies and milk, do you?”

Steve turned to walk towards the restroom, giving Sam the middle finger salute.  Sam burst out in another fit of laughter, cackling as he called after his retreating friend, “I love you too!”

***

With a little splash of water and some serious finger combing, Steve had managed to revive his hair enough so that it no longer laid flat on his head like a matted, blond helmet.  At Sam’s relentless urging, Steve had also shed the soft, gray hoodie he’d been wearing in order to expose the skin tight, black t-shirt he had on underneath.

“You’ve got nice guns, Rogers,” Sam had said with a confident nod.  “Might as well give ‘im a show.”

“And if that doesn’t interest him, I’m pretty sure your massive pecs and washboard abs ought to seal the deal,” Phil added, staring unabashedly at Steve’s incredibly toned torso.  “Jesus, are you cold in here or are you nipples always that _pert_?”

“Geez, guys,” Steve whined, ducking his head.  “Can we not talk about my nipples?  It’s making me blush and you know how long it takes my face to cool down.  I don’t want to look all splotchy and red-faced when he gets here.”

“Too late,” Sam said, his eyes trained on the entrance of the bar.

Steve swallowed loudly as he swiveled on his stool.  His mouth went dry and his heart hammered nervously in his chest as he took a good look at the devastatingly attractive man who’d sat awkwardly on his knee a few hours ago.  He was even more striking than Steve had remembered.  His thick, dark hair, now loose and shaggy, glistened like a halo as the dusting of freshly fallen snowflakes that clung to the strands caught the low light before melting away.  Bucky’s eyes scanned the small, cozy pub before landing on Steve and Sam at the bar.  His face lit up with a brilliant smile as he waved at the pair, wiping his slush-covered boots on the mat before making his way over to join them.

“It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there,” Bucky said with a shiver.  He rubbed his hands together in an effort to warm his undoubtedly frozen fingers.

“It’s funny you should say that,” Phil said with a smirk.  “We were just talking about nip—”

“The weather!” Steve interrupted.  He gave Phil a bewildered glare as the splotches on his cheeks turned a darker shade of crimson.  “The um, frigid _nip_ in the air.”

“Yeah, man,” Sam said, giving Bucky a welcoming pat on the shoulder, “Glad you decided to brave the cold to join us.  No better way to warm up than with an ice cold beer, right?”

Sam really was the best goddamn wingman a guy could ever ask for.  Steve owed him big time.

Bucky chuckled as he shrugged off his coat, taking a seat on the other side of Steve.  “Sounds good to me,” he agreed.

Phil placed three fresh bottles of beer on the bar followed by four empty shot glasses.  He pulled a bottle of his best whiskey down off the shelf and filled each glass to the brim.

“How about a little somethin’ on the house to chase the chill away?” Phil offered, giving Steve an apologetic smile.  He picked up his glass, ready to toast.  “Happy Holidays, boys.  May you always come more than you go.”

The men clinked their glasses with a chorus of “Cheers!” and quickly drained their drinks.

“Ahhhhhhh,” Sam hissed with satisfaction.  “Just what the doctor ordered after a long day of merry making at the Pole.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Bucky said.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Steve said with an ‘awww-shucks’ shrug.  “Most of the kids are really sweet.  Their innocence and sense of wonder is… refreshing.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed.  “And they do say the damnedest things, don’t they?  Speaking of which, how’s Miss Anna Banana?”

Bucky smiled and took a swig of his drink.  “She’s a piece of work, alright,” he answered.  He shook his head before turning to face Steve.  “I still can’t believe the lil’ shit asked you to give me a boyfriend for Christmas today.”

Both Steve and Sam barked out a surprised laugh in response.

“Dude, that was seriously the sweetest, most selfless thing anyone asked from Santa all day,” Sam said.  “You’d better make good on Steve’s promise and make sure that girl gets the biggest, fluffiest, stuffed puppy you can find under her tree Christmas morning.”

“Don’t worry, Gumdrop,” Bucky teased.  “I’ve got it covered.”

“Well, I genuinely appreciate that,” Steve said.  “I really don’t like making promises I’m not able to keep.”

Bucky smiled warmly at him and replied, “Ya know, for some reason I believe that about you.”

Steve could feel his cheeks growing warm again at Bucky’s kind words.

“Well, you ought to,” Sam chimed in with a smirk.  “Steve’s a terrible liar.  And his word’s as good as gold.”

“So, when you said you’d like to ask me out on a date?” Bucky asked with a hint of uncertainty tainting his words.

Steve sat up straight and looked at Bucky with doe-eyed eagerness and hope.  “Would you?” he asked in a rush.  “Like to go out with me?  You don’t have to answer right now,” Steve stammered.  “But, I would like that very much.  To take you out sometime.  On a date.”

“To get food?” Phil interrupted, like the meddling asshole he is.  “You know, the ‘code’?” he added with an exaggerated wink.

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip in an apparent effort to stifle a laugh but Steve was the first to crack.  In the blink of an eye, all four men were hunched over the bar, their shoulders shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

“Shit,” Steve wheezed a few, long minutes later.  “When the fuck did I become Buddy the Elf?”

Sam wiped the tears away from the corners of his eyes, and took a few gulps of his beer.  He pointed at Steve, bottle in hand and said, “You.  Stop tryin’ to steal my job.  And you,” Sam turned to point at Bucky.  But before he could say another word, Bucky cut him off.

“Yes.  I’d love to get food with you, Steve.  Or whatever else you had in mind.”

Steve swallowed loudly and stared into Bucky’s beautiful, blue eyes.  They really were hypnotizing, casting Steve under a spell that he was more than happy to be captive of.

“Um, are you hungry now?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied with a smile and a nod.  “I could eat.”

Steve was so excited _he_ felt like a kid on Christmas morning.  “Great!  Hey Sam, would you like to—” Steve started but his wingman had already slipped on his coat and pulled out his wallet to pay for their tab.

“No, thank you,” Sam said, forcing a yawn.  “I think I’m gonna call it a night.  You two have a good time though and I’ll see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“6:00 right?” Steve asked.

“Not a minute later,” Sam replied.  “You know how my mom gets on Christmas Eve.”

Steve stood up and wrapped his best friend in a crushing hug.  “Thank you,” he whispered in the other man’s ear.  “You really are the best wingman ever.”

Sam beamed with pride as he pulled away from their embrace.  “Tell me something I don’t know, Rogers.”  Then he turned to Bucky and offered out his hand, “BB8.  I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

Bucky cast an appreciative glance at Steve and answered, “I really hope so.  Have a good one, Gumdrop.  Merry Christmas.”

“You too,” Sam said before giving the guys a final salute as he turned to walk out the door.

“So,” Steve said, bouncing on the balls of his feet with nervous energy.  “Burgers and shakes sound good to you?”

“Sounds perfect,” Bucky replied.

***

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at ease in the company of someone he’d just met.  Well, okay, he and Sam had hit it off from their first day of Boot Camp, but there had never been any kind of romantic or sexual attraction involved.  The same could not be said about Bucky Barnes.  Everything about the brunet had Steve’s blood racing with want.  He was gorgeous, yes, but he was also funny and smart and flirty and sweet.  He was easy to talk to and Steve loved hearing the sexy sound of his deep, husky voice.  And as they sat there in the worn-down diner booth, devouring a dinner of juicy burgers, salty fries, and thick, vanilla milkshakes, Steve wondered if Bucky was even remotely as attracted to him as he was to Bucky.

He was an attentive listener and seemed genuinely interested in hearing about Steve’s military service and current career as head of security for a large tech company in town.  And if Steve wasn’t already falling for Bucky’s pretty face and winning personality, learning that he’d left his military career behind to become a personal chef who often catered to New York’s elite but had no problem chowing down on a burger and fries had completely sealed the deal for Steve.

“So I guess you’ll be cooking Christmas dinner then?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

Bucky dragged a freakishly long fry through the puddle of ketchup he’d poured on his plate before shoving the whole thing into his mouth.  Steve waited patiently for Bucky to answer, completely content to watch that strong jaw work, those sinful lips twitch and that delectable Adam’s apple bob as the brunet chewed and swallowed.

“Well, yeah,” Bucky said.  “But not for my family.  I’m cooking for them on tomorrow night and making a slew of desserts for them all to enjoy the following day.  Then I’m spending the better part of Christmas Day cooking in one of the city’s soup kitchens.  Trying to make the holiday a little better for the hundreds of homeless people in my neighborhood, ya know?”

Steve could feel the tears stinging his eyes and fought to keep them at bay.  “Wow.  “That’s… amazing, Bucky.  You’re amazing.”

“Says the man who spent his holiday season dressed up as Santa to help his fellow vets and making a lot of little kids happy along the way,” Bucky answered.

Steve blushed and looked down at his lap, wishing he knew what to say to such sincerely given compliments.

“What about you?” Bucky asked, thankfully changing topics.  “How’re you spending the holidays?”

“Well, tomorrow I’m going to over to Sam’s mom’s house where I intend to eat my body weight in Mrs. Wilson’s honey glazed ham, cheesy scalloped potatoes and bourbon pecan pie.”

Bucky laughed and nodded his understanding.  “Sounds delicious.  You always spend Christmas Eve with Gumdrop?”

“Ever since my ma passed away a few years back.  She was the only family I had and after she died the Wilsons kind of adopted me.”

Steve cleared his throat and looked up at Bucky, surprised when the other man had suddenly reached across the table to gather Steve’s hands in his own.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“Thank you,” Steve answered, giving Bucky’s hands a little squeeze, reveling in their warmth.  “The holidays are always hard, ya know?  But my ma brought be up to be thankful for what we had and to give what we could to those less fortunate.  So, I put the red suit on one last time on Christmas Day to visit sick kids in the Children’s Hospital.”

Steve stared down at their still-joined hands and swallowed back the swell of emotions that was tightening his throat.  When Bucky hadn’t said anything in response, Steve’s gaze darted to the other man’s face, worried that he’d somehow managed to fuck things up with his melancholy tale.  Bucky was staring at Steve looking visibly stunned.

“Bucky?” he asked.  “Are you okay?”

“I am so totally fucked,” Bucky muttered under his breath.

“Sorry?” Steve asked.

“I have never wanted to kiss someone in my life as badly as I want to kiss you right now,” Bucky answered.

Steve chuckled and bit down on his bottom lip.  He’d been thinking about tasting Bucky’s perfectly pink, cupid’s bow lips from the moment he’d first laid eyes on them.

“I know we just met but, shit.  You’re fucking perfect.  And not just in the looks department,” Bucky rambled.  “I mean you _are_ the hottest guy I’ve ever met but you’re also sweet and caring and, you’re Santa for fuck’s sake!  Better than the real one and dammit I’m making this weird.”

Steve could hardly believe his ears.  His heart was pounding and his palms were sweating and he definitely owed Sam a basket of muffins or a new watch or something because he couldn’t believe that he was here now with Bucky.

“I’m sorry if I made things weir—” the brunet backpedaled but Steve cut him off.

“I’d like that,” Steve said with a face-splitting smile.  “Like, you really have no idea just how much.”

“You ready to get out of here?” Bucky asked, smiling just as wide.

“Does Santa like milk and cookies?” Steve teased back.

They’d barely managed to pay their check and make it out onto the snow covered streets before Bucky pulled Steve into his arms.  The world seemed to stop around them as soon as Bucky pressed his lips to Steve’s.  There was nothing but the beating of their hearts, the soft glide of their mouths and the gently falling snowflakes swirling all around them.  When they pulled back to take a breath, Bucky chuckled to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Steve asked.

“I think I might owe Anna a little more than a stuffed animal and a new doll for Christmas this year,” he answered.  “Because of her, I got the best present I could’ve ever wished for.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this work, I'd love to hear from you! Kudos and comments are like warm blankets and a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter's night - they warm me to my core.
> 
> P.S. I've already outlined the third installment in the series. It will be rated Explicit as the boys make merry between the sheets.


End file.
